Page 36 of Courting the Duke (Reimagined Regency #2)

Hoxton silently cursed his grandmother’s obstinate nature.

Serena still stared at him with expectation.

A part of him said to be frank with her, yet he hesitated.

She didn’t deserve his grandmother’s censure, regardless of whether Grandmother was right about the plot to trick him into marriage.

“She simply reminded me to send a missive to the queen about my hospital endeavor.”

While not the complete truth, it would have to do for now. The last thing he wished was to escalate the tension that existed between his wife and his grandmother. He’d had high hopes that the two would get along, but his grandmother had crushed that delusion.

A servant entered the room and bowed to him, offering Hoxton a temporary reprieve. He hated lying to Serena, but the truth would hurt her even more.

“Your Grace, I am sorry to interrupt, but Mulligan asked me to fetch you. The eyas are hatching,” the servant explained.

“That’s excellent news.” To Hoxton, the timing couldn’t be better.

Until his grandmother’s arrival, there’d been progress toward a satisfying truce with Serena.

Not that they had been truly fighting. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but her less-than-eager agreement to marry him was still bothersome. “Shall we go see them?”

“If I recall my Latin, eyas are eggs?” Serena accepted his proffered arm, her eager gaze meeting his.

Her earlier doubt seemed to have faded. Since he’d known her, she’d vacillated between confident and unsure.

He had a suspicion her aunt was behind it, but her scar was a stumbling block for Serena.

Her intelligence however, shone through.

“Hawk eggs in particular.” Despite his doubts, his admiration for her increased. He led her from the room, their footsteps echoing on the tile floor. “You speak Latin?”

“My father and mother believed that girls should be educated.” She spoke with pride about her parents. “My brother and I received the same education until we moved to Clarkingham Manor. My aunt, like most people, doesn’t have the same philosophy.”

“That is a pity.” They exited through a side door and into the garden area, quickening their pace.

Where before they’d strolled leisurely, now he was in a rush to reach their destination.

He wasn’t exactly being a coward, but the birds were a welcome distraction from the thoughts that continued to plague him.

Was this sweet woman rushing to see the eyas capable of such trickery?

Regardless of how it came about, she was his wife, the woman who would bear his children.

“If you wish to educate our daughters, I am not averse.”

Serena stopped mid-step, pulling him to a halt. “Really?”

“Yes. I see no reason why daughters and sons shouldn’t receive equal educations.”

“Oh, Hoxton, you are the best of husbands.” With a beaming smile, she threw her arms around his neck and tugged his head down.

His sense of urgency left in a rush. Their lips connected in a passionate kiss, her soft curves molding to him.

He wrapped his arm around her waist. Her enthusiasm almost made him change his mind about seeing the birds.

Too soon, she pulled back and tugged at his hand, beginning to walk backward. “We should hurry before it is too late. I have never seen a bird hatch.”

The sanctuary loomed a few steps ahead. He resisted the urge to pull her back into his arms and nodded. There would be time for seduction later.

The bird sanctuary was quiet as most of the birds weren’t nocturnal. He led the way into the back room where the nest was situated. Mulligan looked up at their entry, beaming. The mama chicken, acting as a surrogate, looked at them with black eyes.

Mulligan lifted the bird and tucked it under his arm, petting her comb. He stepped back from the long table that ran along the longest wall, several stools tucked under the thick wooden slats. “Let me put this one in her cage.”

Hoxton indicated that Serena should take Mulligan’s abandoned stool while he leaned over the nest for a better view.

There was a noticeable crack in one of the eggs, and the other was moving, indicating activity inside the egg.

Soon, a new life would begin. Rather like his new life with Serena.

If his grandmother was correct, would he put an end to their marriage?

Everything inside his head said no. For better or worse, Serena was his wife, and he’d stand by that pledge.

Yet the nagging voice wouldn’t remain quiet.

“Is this normal?” Her mouth slightly parted, Serena stared at the cracked egg. Anticipation shone in her eyes, and she never looked more fetching.

He settled his hand on her back and leaned in close, observing what was happening in the nest. The uncertainty could be cleared up in a conversation.

However, there was more to asking than simply putting the question to her.

She’d be furious if he were wrong. And he’d be furious if he were right.

Neither result ideal for a happy marriage.

The egg that was cracked didn’t seem as active as the other egg. If he focused on the task at hand, he could tuck the uncertainty away. Upon closer inspection, he could see the bird inside wasn’t moving, which churned his stomach.

“Let’s see if we can help them along.” Next to the table where the nest sat was a pair of long tongs.

Hoxton could still recall the first time he had helped a bird on its journey and each time felt equally as special.

He lifted one egg and carefully peeled back some of the shell.

The sheer membrane inside revealed a tiny bird.

By the angle, it was on its back, its chest out.

“Is he alive?” Serena’s whisper carried anxiety, her body rigid and jaw clenched. He prayed for the bird’s sake and hers that the little one would survive. She’d be devastated, and truth be told, he would as well.

“I can see his heart beating.” He didn’t want to get her hopes up because the bird was undersized.

The more the shell was peeled back, the more his own hopes for the bird’s recovery were dashed.

Luckily, the inhabitant of the larger egg had started to peck through, and tiny squawks came from its occupant.

“If the mama bird were alive, would she have helped with the shell?” Serena pressed closer to him, their arms touching. The stool gave her added height, putting her head even with his.

“More than likely, yes, but each species is different.” Hoxton removed more of the shell, exposing the tiny creature.

His apprehension grew as the scrawny chick remained still.

Life existed there, but would the hatchling have the instinct to survive or simply give up?

In many ways, he’d been like the bird. The moment his men dragged the horse off his prone body, he’d stared up at the overcast skies, wondering if he should try to survive or simply allow the mud to close over him in frigid death.

“This one looks ready to face the world.” Serena’s enthusiastic voice drew him out of the dark past. She glanced at him with a broad smile before turning her attention back to the thriving bird.

Hoxton removed his focus from the hatchling he was working on and freed the other bird. Serena’s presence lifted some of his demons, which made his suspicions of her even more egregious.

“He does, indeed. He is a healthy chap.” Hoxton inspected the overly large head and beak that were revealed, and the bulbous eyes of the chick closed. It twisted its head to the left and right, its large head almost too big for its body.

“I wish I could say it was beautiful, but it is very odd-looking. Although I suppose everybody says that about any child that isn’t theirs.” Serena flushed a pretty pink at the comment.

Her enthusiasm over his agreement to educate their girls shot back to his consciousness. Soon they would have children of their own, at least he prayed that would happen. They would build a life together, no matter how their marriage came about.

“Something is wrong with the smaller bird,” she said.

“Aye.” Hoxton brushed a thumb over the bird’s skull. The few feathers it had were wet and stuck out. “It is missing the wrist part of its left wing.”

“Will he survive?” Serena’s cheerful smile faded. Her fingers on the wooden table curled. “Please try to save him.”

“I will do my best, but the prognosis isn’t good.

” He continued to palm the bird, sharing his warmth with the tiny creature.

Every birth was a joy and every death a time for mourning.

In his youth, he’d never considered such profound plot twists in the book of life.

He’d been fearless and ready to conquer the world.

All that changed. “I am afraid his wing might be damaged, and he is very small. There is a good chance he won’t make it. ”

Startled eyes met his, and she shook her head. “How can you know that?”

“Experience.” He grabbed a piece of linen and wrapped the bird in the fabric.

“Usually, a bird like this would have been pushed out of the nest or starved by the mother.” “That is horrible.” Serena brushed a knuckle under her eye before she reached for the bundle.

His wife had embraced his passion for birds and seemed to be developing one of her own.

Had he married Roxanne, he’d be out here by himself.

Yet another reason Serena suited him better than her cousin would have. “May I?”

“Of course.” While handing over the bird, he bent to kiss her. “I want more than anything to be wrong.”

“Me as well.” She gently rubbed the creature, her brow furrowed in concentration and concern. “Its mother might have wished it, but I will do whatever it takes to save this little fellow.”

“Your compassion is heartwarming, but caring for these birds will take many hours that you don’t have.” Hoxton must set expectations, else she’d be devastated when the inevitable happened. Nature could be brutal. “You have multiple households to run and a demanding husband.”

She smiled at his teasing, although she still seemed a bit downcast. “I do indeed. Will Mulligan be able to heal him?”

“He will do his best. That is all we can hope for.” Hoxton scooped up the second bird, the weight of the chick much heftier in his palm. “This little fellow will thrive easily.”

“How can you tell if it’s a boy or a girl bird?” Serena tucked the little chick close to her chest while she gently stroked its head. She created a truly fetching picture, wearing her compassion on her sleeve.

“You ask it.” Hoxton flashed her a crooked grin, waiting for her witty comeback. He wanted to see her smile again. Selfish but true.

She narrowed her eyes at him, a blush touching her lovely cheeks. “You are funning me.”

Unable to resist, he danced his lips across hers, his kiss lingering a bit more on her enticing mouth. She placed a hand on his chest, her neck angled to skim her mouth more fully against his lips.

A man cleared his throat from somewhere behind them. He broke the kiss to meet Mulligan’s amused regard. His assistant, John, a young lad of nineteen, merely blushed.

“The chicks are both out, but I am afraid the smaller one might not be strong enough to survive. One wing is missing the wrist.” Hoxton tore his attention from Serena.

Once he finished his business here, he had plans for them.

Dwelling on the state of the chick wouldn’t help any of them. Only time would tell if it survived.

Mulligan nodded and settled his hands on his hips. Like Hoxton, he suffered from bad memories of the battlefield and had taken refuge with the birds to heal his mind. “That is unfortunate. Can I see it?”

“I have it.” Serena handed him the bundled bird, her hands small and delicate compared to Mulligan’s.

“It’s still breathing, which is a plus.” Hoxton nodded, trying to sound optimistic for her sake.

Mulligan’s expression softened as he gently took the bundle into his palm. He had been by Hoxton’s side for a decade, and the two were good friends. If not for Mulligan, Hoxton wasn’t sure he would have survived.

“I will try to save its life, Your Grace,” Mulligan said.

“Thank you.” Serena stared wistfully at the bird. “I know you will do your best.”

“We will leave you to it.” Hoxton took her arm, ready to retire for the evening. Hatching was one of his favorite parts about the sanctuary, and although he wanted all of his birds to survive, nature had a different plan.

They exited through the quiet sanctuary, and a sense of comfort blanketed him.

She was easy to be with, and he could see the years stretching out in a companionable manner.

One thing, however, niggled at his mind, and no matter how much he denied his grandmother, he needed to allay the suspicions and would start with Blackstone.